


The Mug

by hodge_loves_his_mug



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hodge_loves_his_mug/pseuds/hodge_loves_his_mug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their anniversary comes again, as it does every year. The Mug remembers the day fondly. But does Hodge even remember when the day is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mug

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is based off a crack ship from Tumblr that I thought was pretty damn hilarious. Let's just say it inspired me at 2 am to write this, and I made an ao3 account just so I could share it with more people. Because I truly think this is a work of art. And trash. So basically me

Today was their anniversary. The mug remembered this day often, going back to it when Hodge was gone and the loud children were gone. 16 years ago on this day, it was a sunny morning. Of course, the mug didn’t really care about the weather because all the days were the same. Store opens, people file in and out, buying items and leaving again. It was a tedious process of looking at good potential buyers, who would then choose some other special “hand crafted” mug. Please, just because he was mass produced didn’t mean the mug wasn’t special. He knew he was special. The instant he met Hodge Starkweather. When the grumpy 20 year old entered the shop, the mug was instantly drawn to him. Maybe it was the strange markings that he’d seen on other humans (although theirs had never looked like his). Or perhaps the circles under his eyes that showed he was obviously going through tough times. No matter what the reason, he knew he was the One, just by his aura. He radiated loneliness, remorse, regret. The mug knew that only his calming color and volume space could fill up the hole that pierced through this young man’s heart. The strange man walked up to the shelves with the mugs, inspecting them. As all the other guests did, he went straight to the handcrafted ones. Drat, there they go at it again with their original markings and pricy tags, the mug scowled. I know you are less predictable than that, fair stranger. Alas, the mug was right. Instead of going straight to the counter to purchase, the tattoed man moved along. He passed by red mugs and green mugs, big mugs and small mugs, mugs with intricate designs and ones that were just plain white. Until he came across the mug. The young man stared deeply at the mug, studying his dark blue coloring, the liquid room in the cup. He even picked him up, holding the mug’s handle comfortably. The mug hadn’t been picked up in ages. It felt good to be wanted. And with that, the two became one. The man bought the mug, and the mug went home with the man. Eventually the mug learned the man’s name (it was Hodge Starkweather, a beautiful, wonderful name) and was immersed into the Shadowhunter World. It was a good life, with coffee and tea and all assortments of liquids pouring out of the mug. Sure, he was chipped (a dark day for Hodge) but he was happy, and that was all that mattered. Just as he finished his reflecting, Hodge walked back in.

“Ah. There you are, I’d forgotten I left you on my desk.” Hodge picked up the old mug, taking him to the kitchen with no mention of the importance of today. The mug was saddened by this, as Hodge had always remembered. Just as the mug started to get angry at Hodge, they got to the kitchen. There was a variety of teas and herbs strewn over the table, all in delicious flavors and scents. Hodge began mixing them up, brewing something that smelled truly amazing. “You didn’t think I’d forget our anniversary did you? I never do.” As Hodge poured the hot liquid into the mug, the mug was filling to the brim with happiness. Oh he knew Hodge would never forget! He was different than the others. Hodge cared. As Hodge drank from the mug, he sighed. “These are good times we have, you and me. They are always the highlight of my day.” Just as the words came out of Hodge’s mouth, the loudest child – the golden one – walked through the door.

“Hodge who are you talking to?” he asked as the glanced at the ingredients that spilled over the table.

“Nobody of your concern, Jace.” And with that, Hodge disappeared into the library again, to snuggle up with a good book and a good mug.


End file.
